Tom Greasent

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Rainbows are incredible. They emerge in the wake of a storm, showing a dazzling display of brilliant colors as if to make up for the dark, gloomy storm that preceded it. A rainbow is like a phoenix, it’s a new hope reborn from the destruction of the storm. And today, a perfect rainbow appeared over Winthrop Place. No, not just a rainbow, a double rainbow, bringing double the beauty and double the renewal to all who bore witness to it. At least, that’s what I heard, I didn’t see the rainbow myself.

I spent my day inside, soaking my skin in a model tub at IKEA. I sat with my notepad, and finally put pen to paper. The burns in my skin helped the ideas flow out from inside of me. And I finished.

I finished my album. All 12 songs written and ready to record. I’m finally going to chase my dream. I felt my spirits lift, out from the depths I was stuck in the past few weeks. I looked around, the rainbow colored curtains wrapped around the tub. I hadn’t noticed how the water reflected the light filtering in from the curtains, making the bath look like the aftermath of a watercolor painting session. I pulled the drain on the tub, and bubbles began to flow up from the drainpipe.

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

People in this town really sleep on IKEA. I think the store is great but no one else in our town seems to shop there often. It’s so underappreciated. Well, now that I think about it, I’ve also been sleeping on IKEA but in a different way. I found a twin bed in the edge of the store that I’ve camped out in for a couple of weeks now. I’m not proud of my squatting, but I gotta do what I gotta do and I just don’t feel safe in Winthrop Place anymore, not after what happened last week. I started in the north of the town, stealing the wreaths from the Police Station and dog shelter, and I had planned on nabbing all of the wreaths until something strange happened. I had a backpack full of wreaths and I was making good time, but then I felt a rush of heat sweep over my back. I turned around and was blinded by an intense light and a flurry of smoke. I was on fire.
Before I could take my jacket off and try and handle the fire myself, the fire handled me. The pain crippled me to the ground and into the cold snow. After a brief battle, the snow eliminated the fire, with the small casualties of a puddle of water in the middle of Blackburn Avenue and this nasty scar on my back. This is bad. No, this is good? No, this will definitely be bad. I debated in my head about how this scar would affect me. Well for one, I’m pretty sure it will scab and puss and look gross. That’s bad. On the other hand, this could be my struggle. Every rapper seems to have their struggle that they overcame, and then they can rap about it. I’ve had an easy life so far, middle-class family, I had both parents, and I have an apartment. I found my struggle! I hobbled back to Winthrop Place, ready to put on some Aloe Vera until I bumped into Briar walking out the front door. He asked how I got burned, and I told him about the wreaths spontaneously combusting. Briar said he was leaving Winthrop Place because he saw just the same thing happen inside there. The damn wreaths were catching fire everywhere, and in that old building, odds are a spark from a wreath would burn the whole building to a crisp. I wasn’t trying to get burned again, so I grabbed my notepad and dipped out of that building. I wish I could have gotten rid of all the evil wreaths in town but oh well, I guess Christmas will never be great again.
Here at IKEA I feel safe with the high ceilings and solitude; it’s like the employees actively avoid me. I turned to my pad and began to rewrite my album. Now that I have this burn, I’m like an army vet in a way. I’ll call myself a veteran rapper! No that’s dishonest. Well, Soulja Boy isn’t a soldier... I’ll call myself Sergeant Tom. That’s it. Now to finish my album.

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

The party was dead to begin with. There was no doubt whatsoever about that. It’s pretty hard to have a good party where no one shows up. When I walked into Ikea’s big Hanukkah extravaganza, I was shocked by the turnout, or lack of turnout. I was the turnout.

I’m not Jewish. Well, my grandpa was Jewish and that’s it so I guess I’m Jew-ish, you know what I mean. I went to the party just ‘cause I had a soft spot for Hanukah. Everywhere in this damn town is all Christmas this, Christmas that. There are wreaths on every house, carollers all over, and the town somehow even got Mariah Carey to walk around and sing at people. I was just walking home from work one day and was vocally assaulted by Mariah Carey’s falsetto, she nearly busted my eardrum out. On top of that, all anyone talks about are all their presents. This little girl Jupiter ran up on me the other day and gave me this little knitted mitten, and I barely know her. Plus it was just one mitten, like what am I supposed to do with only one glove, I’m not Michael Jackson

Anyways, I showed up at the IKEA party expecting big crowds. I was the only one there. Some party. I was still there to buy some new furniture, so I guess it wasn’t a completely wasted outing. My hunt for whoever robbed me was unsuccessful, and I was ready to buy a new shit for my torn apart house. They promised 8% off for the 8 days of Hanukah, who would pass that up? Apparently the rest of this town would.

I walked the aisles, surveying the big box store for anything I needed, then something caught my eye. A neon green suit appeared before me, and I bent over to pick it up. It was a mascot costume, but for that Dr. Seuss character that hates Christmas. Boy does this town need a Grinch character. I picked it up and bought it, ignoring the heater and TV I had intended to buy.

Everyone loves Christmas, but won’t even appreciate a party for Hanukah? And our big Christmas party costs money to attend, the Hanukah party practically paid us! These people are Christmas obsessed, and not even for the right reasons. They are making Christmas all commercial and sold-out. I remember waking up for Christmas morning, spending time with my family, and spreading love. I don’t remember all these giant christmas trees, wreaths everywhere, and focus on presents. I walked out of IKEA with a mission: to make Christmas Great Again.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Winters in this town are rough.
Winters in this town without a heater are hell. And unfortunately, that’s what I’ve had to struggle through lately. My little heater was stolen from me, along with my sleep, comfort, and my ability to feel my toes.
Today I actually made an attempt to socialize and, as expected, it didn’t go so well.
For some reason I got invited to another thing. First the environmental forum, now some murder event. If you recall, last time I went to one of these events I got robbed, so I’m not too keen on these town meetups. However, 20 people packed in the 7th room storage closet? Sounds like a recipe for warmth if you ask me. I threw on my nice shirt, still wrinkled from my sister’s wedding, and headed up to the party.
The event lost me with all of its confusing plots, but I feigned an heir of intelligence whilst assuming my role as a Doctor for the night. Whew, that was a lot of effort to act so smart. To be very honest I don’t think it worked that well. There was this 10 year old named Jupiter who played the role of an esteemed college professor spot on, putting my acting to shame. I guess I’m just less of a Doctor Gray and more of a Dr. Dre if you know what I’m saying.
I was talking to Michael when the shit hit the fan. I think I was in the middle of my “Dr. Grey vs. Dr. Dre” joke; I was about to say Dr. Dre’s name when someone started screaming. Now Michael probably thinks I’m just a big fan of Grey's anatomy, but really I like Dr. Dre more. Oh well. That’s when the lights flashed off. I knew it was a murder event but I didn’t realize it would be so realistic. To say the least, I was out of that closet in seconds. I ran to the stairwell, hearing voices rise behind me. I heard the lights flash back on, in a roar of electricity.

Winters in this town are rough.
Winters in this town without a heater are hell. And unfortunately, that’s what I’ve had to struggle through lately. My little heater was stolen from me, along with my sleep, comfort, and my ability to feel my toes.
Today I actually made an attempt to socialize and, as expected, it didn’t go so well
For some reason I got invited to another thing. First the environmental forum, now some murder event. If you recall, last time I went to one of these events I got robbed, so I’m not too keen on these town meetups. However, 20 people packed in the 7th room storage closet? Sounds like a recipe for warmth if you ask me. I threw on my nice shirt, still wrinkled from my sister’s wedding, and headed up to the party.
The event lost me with all of its confusing plots, but I feigned an heir of intelligence whilst assuming my role as a Doctor for the night. Whew, that was a lot of effort to act so smart. To be very honest I don’t think it worked that well. There was this 10 year old named Jupiter who played the role of an esteemed college professor spot on, putting my acting to shame. I guess I’m just less of a Doctor Gray and more of a Dr. Dre if you know what I’m saying.
I was talking to Michael when the shit hit the fan. I think I was in the middle of my “Dr. Grey vs. Dr. Dre” joke; I was about to say Dr. Dre’s name when someone started screaming. Now Michael probably thinks I’m just a big fan of Grey's anatomy, but really I like Dr. Dre more. Oh well. That’s when the lights flashed off. I knew it was a murder event but I didn’t realize it would be so realistic. To say the least, I was out of that closet in seconds. I ran to the stairwell, hearing voices rise behind me. I heard the lights flash back on, in a roar of electricity.

Friday, September 23, 2016

I look around, checking everyone at the forum for signs of guilt. Then again, whoever robbed my flat probably has no remorse for what they did. Remorseful robbers are seldom successful.

I am at the forum, but my mind is back at the moment I walked into my apartment, finding it ransacked and robbed. I thought about what I had lost. My Television, my computer, my winter jacket. All were merely material objects. I could live without them. But what I couldn’t understand is why the robber took my flashdrive.

My 32GB flash drive in the shape of a skateboard, kind of like those Tech-Decks that we used to use as kids. On this little flash drive, I stored everything. Pictures, documents, and music. Not just music, my music. All the beats I had made. Gone. Every track I had put together. Gone. My lyrics for those songs. Gone. I had been working on finishing this album for years now. Gone.

I snap back to reality. Some chick was saying something to me but I missed it. I couldn’t understand what she said but before I could respond she was gone. Something was off about her. I left the forum.

I start to walk home, my mind rushing a million miles an hour but my feeting barely moving one step in front of another. Why did I even go to the bar? I don’t care about saving energy. I guess I went because I was actually invited to something. But who would even invite me? I don’t know a single person in this damned city who would want me there... I am unwanted. I walk into my apartment. I see where the flash drive used to be.

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Of course I went to the circus. Everyone did. But that didn’t mean I had fun. I filed into the shady tent along with all the folks from Winthrop Place that I ignore on a daily basis. My parents say I should go out more. I tell them to stop trying to control my life. I left Detroit for a reason, to get away from their endless rules and demands. And now I’m over here with a job, and an apartment and my life together and they still are all on me. Ridiculous.

Well I walked into the circus and looked around to find somewhere to sit. I saw families and couples filling the 3 ringed circus to the brim. It’s moments like these that I was I had a friend to sit with. I walked to the far corner of the circus and took one of the only open seats left. It must have been the smoking section or something because there was cigarette smoke everywhere. It was as if I walked into a cloud, a cloud of short-lived buzzes and burnt throats. I myself hadn’t smoked a cigarette in years but the smell unearthed a deep craving, one I had been waiting for for a long time. I asked the man next to me if I could bum one from him but he didn’t smoke either. I realized he was also a loner at the circus so I talked to him for a minute. He seemed a little wired, always squirming in his seat and looking around but he was alright. We both make music and stuff. I don’t know, maybe I could use a new friend.

But once the show started all chit-chat was gone. I wanted to make sure I got my moneys worth out of the show. I spent $7 on this and sure as hell didn’t want to get ripped off by that sketchy Ringmaster dude. That's like a whole hour of working my dang job. Once the show started I realized this wasn’t an ordinary circus, this was some sort of sick joke. There were these dudes pretending to be lions and others taming them. They were humans they didn’t need to be tamed! A damn waste of my hard earned money.

Anyway, I said farewell to my new acquaintance... Michael? I think... and walked back to good old Winthrop Place. The building was oddly loud when I walked in, the hum of generators was deafening to the point that my ears started to ring. I walked up the stairs one by one, feeling the creaks in the old wooden steps pulsate up my legs and into my chest. I felt like I was watching myself in a movie, the frames clicking along in the dull projector of my life. I had a sinking feeling in my throat, and my palms started to moisten like morning dew falling over a luscious green forest. I kept walking, the fourth floor. I couldn’t believe my eyes.